Tainted Blood
by heronwaylightenstern
Summary: Victoria Cousland is an amazing warrior. Except, she's not only that. When she was eleven, she discovered that she was...different. And by different, I don't mean funny looking. I mean she is a mage; a blood mage, to be specific. But no one knows that. However, when she is one of the last Grey Wardens, she finds that secrets are hard to keep. Especially from her friends. (1% AU)
1. Chapter 1: A forgotten past

Victoria Cousland knew that she was different.

She knew, from the beginning, that not only was she different, but that something was wrong with her...something corrupt. She could tell from the airy way that the other noble children carried themselves that they had no cares in the world; that they were perfect little specimens of natural selection. Most of them were blonde, as well. Blonde, brunette or with hair as dark as a raven. It was those three colors. No-one was in the middle, and no-one off to the other end of the spectrum.

Except for Victoria.

Rather than basing her self judgement on hair color, Victoria simply knew she was different because of what happened when she was age eleven to thirteen. When she was at those ages (starting at eleven), she realized that she had powers. She had magic running through her veins, and her parents didn't even know. She wanted to tell them, on multiple occasions, but she was just so afraid of being taken away and being stripped of her title that she kept it to herself. She told no one. But on the day that Nan retired for the kitchen, the new nanny came in. Victoria knew she was in safe hands. This nanny had come from Tevinter, but transferred to Ferelden on account of 'private business'. No one ever knew why the Nanny, Cassia, came to Ferelden. But she was a damn good caretaker for Victoria, anyway.

Cassia revealed herself to be a mage in disguise. An apostate, some would say. She wasn't being hunted, she said, but she had to be quiet about who she was. Cassia told this to only Victoria, and Victoria kept the secret. Victoria also revealed her own magical abilities, and begged Cassia not to tell her parents. Cassia agreed, only on the agreement that she would allow Cassia to train her, in private, the proper way to use magic. Victoria agreed, and the secret lessons began.

For a time, all was well. Cassia taught Victoria the basics of magic. But then, she taught her of a certain school of magic called 'Dolob Camig'. Victoria didn't know what it was, but didn't question Cassia's ways. Cassia told Victoria that Dolob Camig was a school of magic that enabled the wielder to use their own life force to heal people, or hurt them. Victoria knew of blood magic, and that it also had to do with using blood. She asked Cassia on a sunny afternoon on the way to Redcliffe whether or not Dolob Camig was blood magic. Hurt, Cassia turned to her pupil.

"Blood magic? That is forbidden, young lady, and you know that! Why would I teach you a forbidden art? It is pointless, like this conversation. Come, we are nearly in Redcliffe." Cassia then broke up into a speech about acting proper for the Arl and Arlessa. That was when Victoria had tuned out, of course, and rather focused on the sights of the peasant children running around and having the time of their life. Victoria was somewhat jealous, in a way. As the youngest, she did get most of what she wanted, but she never felt the joy of freedom. She was a noble, and noble children did not play in the dirt. They were trained, it seemed, to be warriors either way. But never, ever in the dirt.

This was when she was thirteen. In Redcliffe, Victoria found herself sneaking out of the castle whenever she could to run around the town. She even threw on ragged clothes and dirtied her face and hair so that she wouldn't be noticed. There, in the town, Victoria came upon a sight. A boy, to be exact. He had dirtied blond hair and charming eyes. She had noted that from afar, and before she knew, she summoned up the courage to approach him.

They talked for a while, a long while actually, and even got to know him. However, she said her name was Vincent.

"Isn't that a boy name?" He had laughed.

"Maybe. But who are you to judge?" She had fired back, sarcasm cushioning her bitter words.

The two got along quite well. Too well, some may say. At that time, the Couslands were staying with the Arl and Arlessa for a month, at least. So it was for a month that the two secretly met. At one point, Victoria considered telling the boy who she was, really.

They were pressed up against the back of a wall, his hands gracing her shoulders and neck. He was taller than her, but only by a bit. She had run her hands over his shoulders as well, her hands never stopping once. Their faces were so close, and their foreheads touching. Victoria was as red as a tomato, as was the boy. His lips had fumbled against hers, but she was no master at kissing anyway. His lips were hot against her cold ones. It felt like someone was slowly filling her belly with hot pudding, the sweeter and longer the kisses became. Her fingers ran in his hair, smoothing the dirty clumps. Her lips kissed the scars on him, the bruises and the cuts. Everything about him, every little thing that someone might have thought was ugly, had been perfect to her.

But then, they had been caught. Cassia had conveniently been walking in that little alley. She hadn't thought it was Victoria, at all. But Cassia had been able to feel the magic surging in the young girl's veins, and knew right away it was her.

Cassia broke the two apart and cast the boy aside, growing angrier and angrier at Victoria for engaging in such illicit activities with a peasant boy. The boy had been confused, until Cassia had spat every syllable at him.

"She's. A. Noble. You. Pathetic. Scum."

The boy had been hurt after that, Victoria could tell by his downcast lashes and the hollow way he was breathing. But Cassia didn't want to let him go, it seemed. Victoria had been forced to watch as Cassia used the Dolob Camig to probe the boy's mind and prevent any memory of Victoria. Heartbroken, the young noble could only stand numbly as her nanny did the same to her.

So, after the thirteenth year, Victoria could not remember the boy, his name, or anything that had happened in Redcliffe that month. Yet, she had known for the rest of her days that something was wrong; and it wasn't the magic. They never met again, either. Victoria would take her visits to Redcliffe with her family, but there was no peasant boy with dirty blond hair and charming eyes. She may not have known him, but there was always a little itch in the back of her mind; telling her that she is missing someone. She never thought of it, but after that always hated visiting Redcliffe.

But she continued living; totally oblivious to the mind-block she had that prevented her from remembering her first love, if her last. Eventually, Cassia trained Victoria fully enough to take care of herself, while not enough to have to force her to use magic everywhere. In due time as well, her parents trained her along with her brother. Cassia forbade Victoria to use magic at all during her battles. Even if it felt right, she was to build her strength and become a warrior. No one was ever to know.

Until the night Arl Howe's men attacked.


	2. Chapter 2: Sweet Dairren

Sweet Dairren. Sweet, sweet Dairren, thought she as her eyes ran over his sleeping form. The way his chest rose and fell in such a steady, rhythmic pattern almost intoxicated Victoria. She was an adult now, nearly twenty, and more than old enough to be lying in the same bed with a man. They'd hadn't gone...that far. In fact, it was Victoria herself who had firmly placed her hands on his chest and begged that they not go that far. Dairren, sweet Dairren, had complied without another word. He was so nice to her. So sweet.

Now, Victoria lay in bed, wishing her eyes would close and her breathing would mimic Dairren's. Yet, she found that her mind was alive and active like a festering wound. When she did close her eyes, all she saw was running feet. Why? She didn't know. All she knew was that it had something to do with her abilities.

Suddenly, her Mabari, Chief, began to growl. It came out low and menacing, rattling her bones. Victoria didn't move. She closed her eyes and pretended to sleep as Dairren slowly stirred. She could hear him shifting around and sitting up in the bed. Chief continued to growl; then eventually barking. Dairren shook her shoulder.

"Victoria! Lady Victoria, please wake up." Dairren said as he shook her lightly. Victoria pretended to wake.

"O-Oh," She yawned, not at all forced, "What's wrong Dairren?" Victoria sat up quickly and dug her fingers in the blanket. "And why is Chief barking?"

Dairren grabbed her hand, squeezing it once. Then, he threw his legs over and slowly stood. Victoria made a noise, and Dairren hushed her. He crept to the door. Chief was growling again, utterly quiet. It drove Victoria's nerves on end. She closed her eyes to concentrate, and instead found her mind plagued once more with the running of feet. Now, it seemed the feet were outside of her door. Her chamber door! Dangerous men!

"Dairren, NO!" Victoria shouted as he threw the door open. That's when she saw it. The group of men, decorated in armor and shields and weapons. It would be too late, if she were not gifted with long-range abilities.

A long sword slashed through the hair and sliced Dairren. Dairren collapsed to the floor, immediately still. Victoria threw up her hands, summoning a long forgotten spell. She felt her blood boil as she concentrated on the attacking men, letting her fiery spirit dive into theirs. Each of the men suddenly spasmed, throwing their weapons down and twitching. They were lifted into the air, and then they gave a final jerk and fell to the ground, dead.

Victoria stared down at her hands. Blood was dotting the tips of her fingers. She wiped them on the blanket, and immediately leaped off the bed and to Dairren. She scooped him up in her arms, squeezing his hands. He was still alive, for the moment.

"What did you...do?" He wheezed, eyes scanning her for any sign that it wasn't the same beauty who had seduced him in the library that afternoon. Victoria felt tears spilling down her face as they splattered onto Dairren's bare chest.

"I used magic. Blood magic, I realize now." Victoria said, bowing her head in shame. She wasn't a child anymore. Dolob Camig was but an anagram designed by her satanic nanny. Dolob was blood and Camig was magic.

Dairren tensed up, slipping his hands out of hers and trying to get as far as he could, even if he was dying. Victoria cried even harder. She ran her fingers over his face, suddenly forgetting that they had been stained with blood. Now her blood dotted his face, and he looked even more frightened.

"Stay...away...maleficar…." He hissed, making Victoria's heart turn to ice.

Victoria inhaled, shaking, "I'm so sorry Dairren. I'm sorry I could not save you. I'm sorry I'm not a regular person. I'm sorry I'm a blood mage. I'm so-"

But Dairren was gone now. His body was slowly growing cold in her arms. Victoria kept her head low, weeping into his body. She was sorry, and once again so upset at her horrible Nanny for tricking her into learning this forbidden school of magic. Once again, her secret gift had ruined the lives of people, including herself.

There was the rushing of feet again, causing Victoria to lift her head. She looked in the direction of the door and threw out her hand, ready to cause any other intruder immediate pain. Rather, her mother came bursting through the door. Eleanor Cousland stared, a small gasp escaping from her throat. Her eyes flickered to Victoria, then Dairren's body.

"Oh, my dear. My poor dear. I'm so sorry. Poor Dairren." Eleanor whispered as she went to her knees beside her daughter. Victoria was numb, so numb. She didn't say anything to her mother, aside from nodding slowly. Sweet Dairren. Sweet Dairren. So sweet.

"Come, my dear. You have to get changed, and we have to go. Arl Howe's men are storming the castle." Eleanor dropped her bow and quiver, slipping her arms around Dairren and taking him from Victoria, who sat there without moving. Eleanor was afraid that her child had been so scarred and traumatized that she would just be comatose, like this, during their escape. Eleanor placed Dairren's body on the bed and covered him with the sheet. She uttered a soft prayer, wiping her eyes. Next, Eleanor dipped her arms beneath Victoria's shoulders and lifted her child up. Victoria felt as light as a feather, and it gave Eleanor sorrowful memories of when her daughter was a small girl, and had fallen and skinned her knee. She'd have to pick her up, like this, and right her and tell her that it would be alright.

But she doubted whether they would be alright now.

Closing the door, Eleanor steered her child to the chest in the corner of the room. Victoria numbly walked to it and grabbed her armor. She slipped it on, all of it, over her night-dress and had her mother help her buckle it. She grabbed her long sword, slipping it in the sheath on her back. Without a word, Victoria followed her mother out. They investigated every room, looking for her father. Eleanor asked Victoria many times if she knew where he was. Victoria answered with a mumbled, 'no,' and they continued on their way.

"Is there nothing else we can do, mother?" Victoria whispered. Eleanor looked back at her child, surprised. She thought for a moment.

"Well...I do believe we can stop at the armory. I'll be damned if Howe wipes us out, even our generations old weapons and armor." Eleanor said, making a fist. Victoria nodded, following her mother again as they ran, cautiously, through the halls. They were attacked every so often; sometimes from behind. Victoria had no issues sinking her blade into the chest, limbs or back of the armored men. They were killing everyone she loved, even her sister in-law and her nephew. These men meant no mercy. Neither did Victoria.


	3. Chapter 3: Grief and Guilt

'_Of all things,' _Victoria thought, '_Why did I have to be a mage?' _She considered that she could have easily been a dog, or a cat, or a lay sister or an average Teyrn's daughter. But, no, the Maker decided that this Cousland should have tainted blood. Blood that probably wasn't even hers. On many the occasion after Duncan had saved her from the place that she once called home, she'd have those thoughts. She debated if she was even the daughter of her parents. She debated if she was some other person's child; thrown cruelly into another couple's hands and forced into a life that wasn't hers. Her identity was a mystery, for now. Because, if anything, she really wasn't a Cousland.

_Victoria, Eleanor and Chief stumbled into the larder. On the floor, in a pool of his own blood, lay Teyrn Bryce Cousland. The women didn't notice him at first; not until he feebly called their names from the ground. Victoria noticed her father the second he said her name and went running to him. She slid to her knees, her sword clanging to the ground. Eleanor soon joined her side, her hands shaking as she held them out to her husband. The Teyrn winced when Eleanor's hands found his wounds._

"_Bryce," she whispered, "You're bleeding! What happened?" _

Victoria could still taste the smoke. While the two were miles away, her lungs still burned and felt scarred, and the smell of burning flesh wouldn't leave her nose. Duncan had suggested that she drink a poultice, but no, she somehow wanted to keep the last memory of her home, no matter how bad it smelt. When she closed her eyes, she saw the bodies of knights she had seen on several rounds through the castle. She saw the blood; her mother; her dying father.

"_We have been betrayed...b-by Howe…" The Teyrn gasped, another wave of pain and nausea rolling over him._

Duncan and Victoria were a few days into their journey to Ostagar. Night had fallen, and the two had shared a small meal before heading to their bedrolls. It was too dark to continue on. While Victoria lay sleeping, she imagined several ways that Arl Rendon Howe could be murdered. She could slice his throat and let him bleed out; or she could slice him from the belly up, then hang him upside down and let him bleed out. Or she could use her father's sword and cut that traitor into tiny, tiny pieces. Either way, he would die at her hand. She would not let him live after his crimes.

_But then, her mother said that she wouldn't leave her father's side. It made Victoria's heart freeze into a cold, hard lump that weighed her down like an anchor. It even hurt her chest. She could not leave her mother. She could not and would not leave her family._

"_Mother...no! Please, don't sacrifice yourselves," Victoria began to sob. "You said it yourself, Mother! We'll get Father to safety...we will…" Her sobs were making her shake now, her shoulders trembling and her lip quivering._

Duncan was kind, so kind, to Victoria. He gave her the space when she needed it, and let her cry out her agony of the loss of her family when she wanted to. He never pushed her, never poked her. Victoria respected that, but couldn't help but feel an ounce of hate for the man. He made her leave. He made her abandon her parents to their deaths. But then again, it was for the best. Victoria knew this as well. She just wanted to dislike him, just a bit, so that she wouldn't have to keep feeling so sad all the time.

On one evening, Duncan proposed that they should train, in preparation for Ostagar and everything. He'd meant it as lightly as possible when he said that she might have been a bit rusty after the long period of time without fighting, aside from small animals to eat. Victoria had been only slightly offended, but shamed herself for it. It was true. It was also a great way to relieve her pain.

"It is best, my lady, I swear to it." Duncan promised, one fist over his heart. Victoria had agreed, anyway.

So they trained. Duncan was still so kind, pushing her slowly at first and then becoming more and more aggressive as time went on. Each time Victoria felt like quitting, she remembered her parents. She remembered the horror on her mother's face when they saw her father, dying in his blood at account of someone who was once a friend. She remembered the vulnerability in her father's face: a man who was once so strong and so powerful. He was reduced to nothing. Nothing but a quivering, dying shell of the man that he used to be. It motivated her and quenched any weakness within her.

"_Victoria, listen to me. You have to leave. You have to go with the Grey Warden, my dear. It's for the best. You have to be the one to tell Fergus -to tell everyone- of Howe's treachery…"_

"How do you feel, my lady?"

Victoria looked up. Duncan was standing over her, a grim look on his face. His hands were together and behind his back. Victoria nodded slowly, her fingers growing a little too warm by the fire. Duncan kneeled beside her, bowing his head.

"I'm fine, Duncan, I swear. But...thank you for the courtesy. You don't know how much I…I appreciate it." Victoria smiled, but she didn't mean it. She didn't mean to not mean the smile, but lately she just didn't feel the same confidence as she did a week ago.

"My lady Cousland...is there something wrong? Aside from your recent loss, of course," He then noticed the flash of remorse on her face. "Oh, I-I apologize. I didn't mean-" But Victoria cut him off with a raise of her hand.

"Please, Duncan, don't feel bad. It's really not your fault. I just...I…" Victoria blinked, feeling tears sting her eyes. She wiped them with the back of her hand, refusing to cry. "I feel like I could have saved them, you know? Like I could have...done something more."

Duncan raised an eyebrow, giving her a quizzical expression. "I don't know what you mean. The Teyrn was too badly injured to be saved, and the Teyrna was set on staying. You could have stayed, we both could have, but we would have died just as easily."

Victoria shook her head. "No, no. You don't understand. I-" She was so close, so close to telling Duncan. But, could she? Could she tell the one person, the one person in so many years, of her affliction?

No, she couldn't. She didn't know if she could trust Duncan. She could, however, trust the Grey Warden with her life. She really could. But Victoria didn't know if the wise, grizzled man with authority coming off him like steam would keep her secret. Whether or not he would tell someone. On the other hand, she would be a Grey Warden soon. They didn't lock up blood mages in the Wardens, did they?

The fact still remained that she was a mage. She would be stripped of her Cousland title in seconds, Warden or not. At least if she was a Grey Warden, she would still be considered a lady of the Cousland house. If Fergus was dead, she would be the new Teyrna of Highever, as well.

"Nevermind. It's nothing. Just...doubt. I just wish they could have been saved...I guess. Ignore me." Victoria shook her head again, burying her face in her hands.

Duncan sighed from beside her. "I protest, my lady. I will not ignore you. From my experience of loss and death, I know that talking it out is the best. If you truly want to work to get over it, then talking it out would be the most efficient way."

Victoria couldn't help but agree. The advice was useful; she had to admit.

"You're right. Really, you are. I promise if I have anything else to talk about, any doubts or anything...I'll talk to you. Thanks, Duncan." Victoria grinned, trying to make it genuine, but failing horribly. Duncan placed an affectionate hand on her shoulder, gave it a squeeze, and then stood up to tend to the fire. Victoria scooted back until she was on her bedroll. She fell back, sprawling out and struggling to sleep. But when she closed her eyes, she only saw the worrisome faces of her mother and her father.

"_You have to be the one to be sure that Howe's betrayal will not go as planned. If you live, pup...then the Cousland bloodline will continue, and will not die out right here and now." _


	4. Chapter 4: Ruins of Ostagar

Within a week, after laborious traveling and grueling training, Victoria and Duncan arrived at Ostagar. Victoria couldn't help but smile a bit when she saw the fabled spires of the centuries old Tevinter fortress. While anything Tevinter would make her blood curdle, she knew that there were no more magisters at Ostagar. There were only warriors, mages and the King and his men. She also smiled when she thought that she'd get to meet King Cailan. Oh how she'd heard stories from her father! She was Fereldan, so she obviously knew the basics of the present royalty, as well. King Cailan was married to Anora Mac Tir, daughter of Loghain Mac Tir: the Hero of River Dane.

She was also happy to have reached some sort of civilization, aside from the occasional village they passed by on the way there. Oh how curious she would be! In her odd sort of mind being, she'd have to investigate a good portion of the Ostagar base, just to see it all and take it in. But also, of course, to keep her mind off of the looming memory of her family's untimely demise.

She followed behind as Duncan confidently strode toward a mass of soldiers and guards. One of them was decorated in shining gold armor. Victoria assumed that was King Cailan.

Duncan and Cailan greeted each other. They spoke pleasantries. Victoria noticed that Cailan had blond hair, somewhat long and halfway tied behind his head. He looked like a sliver of sunlight, in comparison to the grizzled, darker skinned and darker haired looks of Duncan. He spoke lightly of the oncoming darkspawn horde. _Darkspawn? Here? Is this a Blight_? As if to answer her mental question, Cailan said, "I don't even think this is a true Blight."

Even if the King of Ferelden, or the Maker himself, told her that it wasn't a Blight, she wouldn't help but not believe them. The way that Duncan, a Grey Warden to boot, had seemed so concerned about King's brushing away of the darkspawn really made Victoria think.

"...I take it this is she?" Victoria blinked. Were they talking about her, now?

"Allow me, your majesty, to introduce Victoria Cousland." Victoria bowed, still utterly lost and confused. She chastised herself for daydreaming; a recurring weakness of hers.

"Cousland? Then you must be Bryce's youngest. I don't think we've met before, however." Cailan looked down at her, as he was slightly taller than her. Victoria nodded, hesitantly at first and then more confident.

Victoria's breath hitched when a painful flashback whipped against the back of her eyes. "Yes, your Majesty_." _Her father, cringing in pain and clutching his side. Her mother, weeping for the agony her husband was in. The images bled onto her eyelids whenever she blinked. She discreetly rubbed her temples, trying to frighten the horrible images away.

Cailan didn't seem to notice the quick flash of hurt, but rather rattled on: "Does your father join you and Duncan's party? Your brother has already arrived with Highever's men, but we wait for Bryce." Victoria held her breath, digging her nails into the palm of her hand. She was so sure, only a few days ago, that the guilt was gone. _I guess_, she supposed, _It isn't over. I don't think it will ever be._

"No, your Majesty. My father is not coming. He-He...died. Everyone died when our castle was taken." Victoria bit her tongue to stop the tears. When did grief go away?!

"What? Who did this unspeakable act?" Cailan demanded. He looked over to Duncan for answers.

"Highever Castle was overtaken by Arl Howe, who has shown himself as a traitor. If we did not escape, he would have killed us as well and told you whatever story he wished." Duncan said. Cailan had turned away at this point, seemingly overtaken by bits of rage and disbelief. _I guess that's what other people think when people they know are murdered. It's nice to know that I'm not the only one so choked up, _Victoria thought as she stared at the King.

He was silent for a moment, but then turned and fumed, "This is...inconceivable! How does he think he will get away with that and not face consequences?" Cailan stops and directs his attention to the quivering form of Victoria. She's angry now, as well. Angry, once again, at Arl Howe for killing her family. Her rage mimiced that of the King's. "I promise you, once we are done here, we will bring Howe to justice. I give you my word."

Victoria nodded, the grief and guilt and anger slipping away from her fingertips like sand. She was...somewhat normal again. The pain was gone, for now. "If that is the best you can do at the moment, then I will take it your Majesty." Victoria felt better, especially now knowing that Arl Howe will definitely not get away with it. The King brought up her brother, and that he wasn't at Ostagar at the moment, but in the Wilds scouting. Victoria told him that she wasn't too keen on telling her brother anytime soon, and the King agreed.

Duncan and Cailan discussed the condition of the horde while Duncan was away. Cailan once again brought up his doubt of this onslaught being that of a Blight. Duncan voiced his concerns as politely as possible; never overstepping any boundaries.

Finally, Cailan addressed the two and said that he had to leave to discuss battle plans with Teyrn Loghain. He farewelled Duncan and Victoria, then strode off with his gleaming armor across the bridge. It left an unwary air around the two. Duncan cleared his throat, gesturing for Victoria to go first as they walked to the camp.

"The King is right when he says that the other battles were won against the darkspawn. What he may not be right about, however, is tonight's battle." Duncan had a grim look to his features.

"What is it? Do you think the troops will be overwhelmed?" Victoria asked. Duncan shook his head.

"No, it is not that. It is the fact that the horde is growing larger and larger as the days pass. By the looks of it, they might just as well outnumber us. That, and the fact that I know that an archdemon is behind this, signaling the beginning of a Blight. Yet, I cannot simply tell this to the King based on my 'intuition'."

Victoria felt her blood chill. She had read many times in the books from the library, and from the stories her teachers had told her, of the Archdemons and Old Gods and Blights. She knew that archdemons were typically dragons, of the sort. She also knew how incredibly dangerous and fearsome they were, both to the people they threatened and the land they polluted. "But he regards the Grey Wardens so highly. Who's to say he won't take your advice?" Victoria looked over at Duncan as she spoke.

"Well, the King might, but the others I am not so sure of. Grey Wardens are not only too few in numbers, but still treading on shallow water. In spite of such, we should proceed with the Joining ritual immediately."

Victoria raised a brow. "Ritual? What ritual?"

Duncan explained: "Every recruit must go through the secret ritual known as the Joining, in order to become a Grey Warden. You need not fret about it, however. We will begin at nightfall. You and the other recruits will have to gather supplies soon, of course, but aside from that you should not worry."

Victoria felt that prickle of curiosity trickle through her head. She really had no choice but do worry, it seemed. The air of secrecy around this 'ritual' did nothing to calm her nerves. Despite such, she put on a confident face and merely shrugged. "If you say so, Duncan."

He smiled, not at all unnerved by her willingness and lack of questions. "Indeed. You may explore the camp as you wish, as long as you do not leave for the time being. When you are ready, seek out Alistair, another Grey Warden in the camp. You must tell him that it's time to summon the other recruits and return to me," Victoria nodded. "For the time being as well, your hound will stay with me while I attend to important business."

Chief barked and Victoria felt guilty for nearly forgetting that her dog was still there. She bent down beside him and gave him a loving pat and rub. She was grateful that someone, aside from her brother, survived the attack. When he finished giving her face a good tongue scrub, she stood up and, while wiping it off, returned her attention to Duncan.

"Yes, ser!" Victoria joked, standing straight and tilting her chin like a soldier. Duncan simply shook his head, chuckling a bit, and hurried on with Chief at his side.

This left Victoria alone. She relaxed her position, staring out into the wide space. Below the bridge was a wide valley, covered in trees and a few bodies. Of people or animals, she didn't know. The sun was shining particularly bright at this time. The sky was a deep blue, not a cloud polluting it's surface. Victoria remembered her mother pointing out the perfect sky, and telling her that _"Whenever it's such a beautiful day, it means a terrible storm is coming. You should know to prepare for it. Never take something beautiful for granted. It's got more bite than bark._"

Victoria sighed, wishing her parents were here. Wishing she was at home, reading a book by the fire or training with Ser Gilmore. Even playing with her nephew, another dead, probably burnt, body. Victoria shook her head, dismissing such grim thoughts. She was here now, and she decided that she ought to think in the eve of being here and now. She wasn't in the past anymore. She was going to be a Grey Warden, and it was time to start acting like one.


End file.
